Not Another Day
by AthenaetVenus
Summary: I made it PG13 for later. It's a short Scott/Rogue that may or may not become a chapter fic, but right now it's just a sweet little romance.
1. Default Chapter

This is a major Scott/Rogue, not much of a plot otherwise. I don't own any of it. Not Scott or Rogue or Jean or Cody or Kurt or Duncan or Donder or Prancer. That said, here we go.

Rogue sighed as she looked at her alarm clock, counting down the seconds. _Three…two…one…_

~BBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGGG~

Another day in her so-called life. She remembered how, less than a year ago, school had been fun. Okay, maybe not fun, but not torture. A year ago and a few hundred miles away. She had sparkled, she had shone. 1,000 people, all smiling, all greeting her by name. Being the girl. _But not now_, she thought, shaking herself back to reality and out of bed. Now she worked hard to be ignored. Covered any color with powder. Coated her lips and eyes with black. Barely even brushed her hair. Any of her old friends would be shocked. They wouldn't understand. What had happened to Rogue? They would ask. The real Rogue. The Rogue of tans and parties and laughter. Where had she gone? 

_I guess they buried me with Cody_. And she knew it was true.

She pulled on morbid clothes and forced herself to apply charcoal makeup, then dragged herself downstairs so Kitty could barricade herself in the bathroom. Another morning spent watching him, knowing that a few months ago she could have had him, and hiding the hurt that that thought caused.

Of course, Scott was there when she entered the dining room. Looked like he was working on some last minute homework, an oddity for Mr. Perfect. She grabbed an apple and sat down at the other end of the table. She looked down the table at the paper lying past him, mentally figuring how she could get to it with the least amount of notice.

_Screw it, _she thought, taking a rather vicious bite of her apple, then getting up walking over, and quickly scanning through the pages for the comics and sports, the whole time wondering why it had mattered in the first place. She found the sections and took them back over to her apple. Forgetting for a moment where she was and who she was supposed to be, she cursed at the headline on the sports page. Scott's head swiveled around towards her, and she could feel herself start to blush underneath those layers of powder.

"Sorry," she said.

"What is it?" she asked, obviously puzzled. _Of course he is_, she thought, _I'm Rogue. I don't show emotion, especially not over a newspaper_. 

She held it up for him to see, trying to smile weakly.

"Steelers lose to Colts," he read aloud. His eyebrows raised. "So, you're a Steelers fan? Why?"

"One of my old friends was practically obsessed with 'em, I guess I just caught."

"Who'd have thought it? Obsession is contagious." he smirked.

_Better not hang out with you then, I'd hate to go all lesbo on Jean_, thought Rogue.

__

" I heard that," said the aforementioned as she entered the room_. _"And it's really nor true. Trust me, I know."

"Uh-huh, whatever you say."

__

He likes someone else now. came Jean's voice.

__

Who?

Not for me to tell.

Must be nice to know everything.

Not always.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Scott, somewhere between annoyance and amusement. They smiled superiorly and answered simultaneously. "You."

Scott kind of squirmed and Rogue actually laughed.

"Oops," said Rogue, glancing at her watch, "Gotta go. Hey Jean, can I borrow a scarf or something. I'd ask Kitty, but all she's got is pink," she made a face.

This time Jean laughed. "You know, Rogue, I can see your memories. If you ever want to borrow anything el…"

"That ain't me anymore." she cut Jean off and got up to leave.

"The scarf is in the entryway. And actually yes it is."

Rogue didn't stop. She walked on out.

Scott looked at Jean. " What did you two mean?'

"By what?" she asked, looking completely innocent.

"You know, 'ain't me anymore', 'yes it is', any of this sounding familiar?" he replied sarcastically.

"Well, I could tell you…"

"Yes, yes you could!" he eagerly concurred.

"But then I'd have to tell her that you're in love with her." Jean said with what could only be described as an evil grin.

"What? Why? How did you… Jean, that's cruel!"

"Hey, why let a perfectly good power go to waste?"

"You know, as long as you're thinking like that, why now tell me what she thinks of me? I think that's a good idea."

"Hmmm… why don't you ask Kurt or Evan? I refuse to abuse my power." Scott snorted. "Well, abuse it further, at least."

"Will they know?"

Jean started laughing again. "Oh, yeah, they'll know."

"Fine, then I'm gone," he said, and headed up to his room, wondering what had been so funny about his question. But he never made it to his room, because on the stairs he ran into Kurt.

Literally. "Ow," they both grunted.

"Sorry about that," Kurt said, "I was in a hurry."

"Why were you using the stairs? You never use the stairs. There's no reason for you to use the stairs." Scott groaned, holding his head_. Wait, don't I have something to… Oh yeah._ "Hey, Kurt, never mind about that, it's no big deal. Can I ask you something?"

"You just did, but yes."

"First off, that joke is dead. Very dead. Second, do you…doyouknowwhetherRoguelikesme?" Scott ended in a rush.

"What about Rogue?"

"Do you know if Rogue likes me?"

Kurt suddenly looked angry. "You know you don't need me to answer that question. I didn't think you would do something like this."

"Like what?"

"Mocking her! Really, you know, I know, the whole school know, and vorse, she knows they, I mean ve, all know, so can't you at least pretend to ignore it?"

"You mean, she does like me?"

Kurt gave him a brief look of disgust and started down the stairs. He looked back, maybe intending to fire some final words of contempt, but then stopped short at the look on Scott's face.

"You really don't know, do you?" now his tone was one of amazement, not censure.

"I wouldn't have asked if I did."

"The Brotherhood actually thought she'd transferred to be with you. Half of us did too. Teryn hates her. Jean even got jealous once. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes!" Scott yelled, but it seemed more like a happy exclamation than an answer to Kurt's question. "Now I need to ask you another question."

"What?" Kurt wasn't sure, but it seemed like their fearless leader had a crush on their little rebel. His next question made Kurt sure.

"What kind of flowers does she like?"

Should I leave it at that, or make chapters? I was kind of thinking chapters, but I'm not sure now. My, I do like messing with Rogue's past, don't I? It's just that she's so different in the comics and in the old cartoon. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. Thank you for reading this, even if you don't review.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, here's another chapter. Once again, I don't own anything. In response to some of the reviews: I was tired of Jean always being bitchy whenever Rogue got something she didn't, so in this fic she's going to be happy for them. HAPPY!! In this fic Scott's supposed to have liked Rogue for a long time, not just all of a sudden. Oh, and note to J.C. Thomas, that's a really, really good story so who cares if you're being hypocritical. I think that's all. 

Rogue slipped hurriedly into her first hour seat, unaware of Scott's intent observation. He was starting to get worried. The bell was in two minutes, and their teacher would not appreciate an interruption of her class for delivery of floral arrangements. Kurt had told him to send the first few gifts unmarked so that she would get used to the idea of being liked. Since, according to Jean, Rogue was doing everything she could to not be noticed, she might be a little incredulous at first. The "secret admirer" bit should take care of that. Jean had said to start dropping hints after three weeks. Scott thought he might last one. He glanced up at the clock. Damn, only one minute left. There was a knock at the homeroom door almost simultaneous to his thought. Kurt hurried to open it. A bouquet of lilies stepped through the door. It was wearing Nikes. " Sign here," the flowers handed Kurt a note pad.

"But I didn't order them."

"Don't care. Sign there." The bouquet headed towards Rogue's seat.

Scott was watching her closely, and he could tell the exact moment she realized the flowers were for her. Her eyes lit up, and for just a second, he thought she might cry. But the next she was giving the deliverer the brightest, most dazzling smile Scott had ever seen.

"Who are they from?" she asked, still smiling and now very gently fingering the blossoms, as if afraid they might shatter and the moment go with them.

"Can't say, maam." suddenly the gruff delivery man seemed more like a school boy with a crush. "Ain't no card, no name a'tal."

"Thank you," she said, apparently because their was no one else to thank. The delivery man took his clipboard from Kurt and left the classroom, the normal chatter slowly resumed, the bell rang.

And Scott smiled.

***

Rogue was still euphoric at lunch time. She'd breezed through her morning classes. A's on all her homework papers, but that didn't really register. She was still focused on the lilies, the smallest of which she now tucked behind her ear. She glanced in the mirror and sighed. Surely one day without the makeup wouldn't hurt anything. She could borrow Jean's sandals, Tabitha's jeans, Kitty's leather gloves, take off her black over shirt, and for just one day, for just that one person who cared, she would be herself._ What could it hurt?_ she asked herself, taking the lily from her hair and laying it on the counter. _What could it hurt?_ She washed off her makeup in the gym showers. _ What could it hurt?_ She searched through Tabitha's bag, Kitty's purse. _What could it hurt?_ She reaffixed the flower and checked on it's sisters._ What could it hurt? Too much to even think about._ She walked out into the cafeteria.

***

Okay, that's it for now. Sorry I kept ya'll waiting and that it's kinda short, but I like stopping at places like these. Hehe, I am evil, fear me. Anyway, please review, and keep reading.


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